


Whumptober 10

by Waywocket



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Death, Gore, Mentions of Rape, mentions of raping a minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywocket/pseuds/Waywocket
Kudos: 1
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Whumptober 10

It’d only been a few months since it happened, not that she could remember much more than not being able to stand, or the pain as he held her down. That at least she was grateful for. The less she could remember, the better. Not that he didn’t try to remind her at every chance, and that he thought it meant he owned her.

But it wasn’t all bad. Tiffany was warming up to parts of it. At least until someone grabbed her by the arm and dragged her behind the tavern again. It was dark, and they were alone. Not that anyone would save her if they had seen.

Stumbling back to her feet, she could hardly hear the bastard scream at her. Screaming that she was obligated to marry him again. That he wouldn’t allow her to carry his child without his name.

As he pulled her hair to force her back to her knees again, she didn’t even wince. She wouldn’t give him that. She wouldn’t give him anything. Even when he tried to force her hand with her parents.

And they had agreed with him. Taken his side that it was the right thing, to make everything right and save face. Not even a hint of remorse to what had happened to their child. 

But she wasn’t a child. Her father had chosen not to take the Landeroot name and look after the village. So she did, even though she was only sixteen. It was the deal that was made before she was born. She was in control, and she wouldn’t bend as long as her legs would hold her.

Shoving the man back, she pulled herself back up to her feet. She glared at him, eyes never leaving his. Face calm, even with icy eyes, she straightened out her clothes. Not a word, she wouldn’t give him anything more. 

That changed when she felt the knife sink into her lower stomach. So focused on looking imposing, she didn’t notice in time when he reached into his pocket. The pain bloomed across her stomach and down her hips. Warm blood was already spilling down her pants.

Gasping in pain, her knees started to buckle. She could feel the blade shift inside her. She grabbed his arm tightly, trying to stay on her feet. 

He smirked and pressed it deeper. Quietly he snarled that he wouldn’t let Tiffany bear his child if she would be such a fuss.

She wanted to beat him, to kill him, but it was all she could do to keep standing as the blood trailed down her legs and pooled at her feet.

She cried out when the knife was ripped out of her. With unfocused eyes, she watched as Johnathan, her best friend, brought his fist heavily against the man’s chin.

She stared blankly ahead as Johnathan shoved him away. He was yelling, but she couldn’t focus enough to understand what he was saying. 

Jonathan stumbled back as the blade slashed across his chest, ruining his shirt and staining it with both their blood. Yelling again, he lunged forward, grabbing the man’s wrists. He was bigger, taller, and broader, and used every inch of that to protect the most important person in his life.

In the scuffle, and thanks to a heavy knee to the smaller man’s ribs, he managed to get the knife away. This was going too far. He should have done it from the start. Jonathan slashed the knife across his face, splitting his nose and an eye. Blood quickly spilled over his cheek, and his eye hung loosely, not quite hanging out. Then he plunged the blade deep into his neck and held it there until the other man dropped, shoulders and chest heaving with anger. He watched as what little life was left pooled out at his feet.

Tiffany couldn’t speak, not that it would have mattered. Looking down, she saw the dark blood as it pooled over her hands, dripping into the grass even as she pressed against the wound. The bastard had cut her deeply. There was so much blood. With shaky hands, she tried to sign to Johnathan for help as her knees finally did give out.

She couldn’t focus. Everything was spinning now. Still, she kept signing, hoping Johnathan would notice. Hoping there was something he could do.

When he was sure the man was dead, Johnathan finally turned to Tiffany. Seeing her on the ground, he started panicking again and rushed to her side. Not like this.

When he came over, he looked just as afraid as she did. Shaking, tears rolled down her cheeks. Holding her bloody hands to her chest, she cradled them, like holding a baby to her chest. Their sign for ‘baby’. 

The world went black.


End file.
